It's been eight years. Eight years since the foundation of our world cracked. Eight years since a so-called trustworthy, inseparable society began its ridiculous, unexpected accusations within the household. I found a sickening feeling in realizing that the poison of our race was homemade... that it was of our own blood. This poison consumed humanity in its entirety, leaving almost nothing behind of our civilized paradise. However, losing what our innumerable generations were raised to build and love with an undying passion, we were paid in primordial violence against one another.
What a fucking joke.
Even I have been captured in the wave of insanity. I could not avoid it, but unlike the others, I saw it coming. Everything except myself- my home in the mountains, my little brother, and the love of my life- were gone as quickly as a flash of lightning. I died once, for a man cannot live through such a horrid storm of awakening.
Mother nature sure is a bitch.
Okay, think of civilization as a forest, and life as a fire. Well, greed is the gasoline to our fire. It shapes humanity as we grow older, yet it can destroy us in a single, searing blaze. Ironically enough, the greed-fueled goals of humans are only as god-like as we allow them to become. These desires feed on our refusal to admit that they exist within us. To admit such a thing is a necessary part of escaping from the relentless clasps of the forest. Now, that being said, I understand that it's probably not a smooth ride for anyone.
Seriously. I had to die to get out of that shithole.
However, in my first death, I surprisingly found life. The world around me appeared just as it had before, but I felt a flower of realization blossom within. My soul had evolved. Please keep in your noggin that I don't intend to deny the existence of a heaven or hell by saying this. It appears to me that the world possesses perfection through its imperfection. In fact, it could be said that heaven and hell are one in the same, and that its audience's entranced eyes are the only factor in drawing a line between the two.
Damn, I guess beauty really is in the eye of the beholder.
As the sun sets, I look forward to the next day. Even though that never truly changes by itself, I do. The world changes with my eye, for I have found that I live in a playground. I flow with the river, and everything flows with me. I mean, I might not always find an appeal in my next destination, but I can rest assured that I'll never again struggle to stay afloat in this mad, mad world.